The hurt and accusation in his tone tore at her heart.
Her voice went hoarse. “I don’t know what else to tell you. I’m just trying to be honest about my feelings.”
He nodded, his lips clamping into a thin line. “I appreciate your honesty,” he clipped.
She could feel a wall going up between them.
“I’m so sorry,” she uttered, jumping to her feet and rushing to the bathroom before he could see her lose it.
Chapter Sixteen
The next morning, on the drive to Barrett Medical, all Maddox could think about was that he’d overreacted. After all, Maddox knew how Addie felt. The reason she’d broken up with him to begin with was because she couldn’t stomach his life as a SEAL. Now that he was retired, it wouldn’t be any different. He couldn’t promise her that when he went into dangerous situations that he’d come back. No one could promise that. Things had been going so well between him and Addie—the chemistry between them set him on fire—that he hoped she would come around. Who was he kidding? He’d known from the minute he stepped foot in Birchwood Springs how this would end. Maybe this was the reality check he needed to cut bait and move on with his life.
Soon, Addie would no longer need protecting, and it would be time to go to the next assignment. Maddox hoped, that when he questioned Brent Barrett and Blanche Richey shortly, he’d get the validation he needed to put closure on the situation. By the end of the day, the authorities would have Brent Barrett in their custody. Brent already had the hard drive, meaning no one had any further reason to bother Addie. Like he promised, Maddox would accompany her to San Diego so she could see Corbin andDelaney. After that, they’d go their separate ways. Despondency settled like glue in his gut. Oh, how he wished things could be different, but wishing didn’t make it so.
The limousine pulled up in front of Barrett Medical. Maddox looked up at the modern, high-rise complex of glass and metal, gleaming like a self-important jewel in the midday sun. He glanced at Addie’s stony expression. After they’d arrived in New Jersey the night before, they went to a hotel that had two queen-sized beds and got some rest, speaking to each other only when necessary.
This morning, the coolness continued. It was better this way. Maddox couldn’t keep opening himself up to her, only to get shot back down. He reached for the door handle. “You ready?”
She nodded, squaring her jaw. “Yep.”
A couple minutes later, they walked across the shiny, hard floor of the cavernous foyer to the front desk where a suit-clad woman with a cap of straight-blonde hair sat staring at a computer screen, punching keys. When she realized Maddox and Addie were there, she reluctantly pulled her eyes from the screen and shifted her attention to them.
“Welcome to Barrett Medical, how may I help you?” she said in a nasally tone. Her words were all the same pitch like she was reading from a script.
Maddox leaned into the counter, resting his arm on the lip at the top as he flashed a conversational smile. “We’re here to see Brent Barrett.”
Her eyes widened. “Your name?”
“Maddox Easton.”
She looked at her screen and began furiously typing. Her fingers paused. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have you listed. Mr. Barrett doesn’t see people without an appointment.”
Maddox figured they’d have to go through a song and dance before getting past the gate keeper. “Brent will want to see me.” He looked the woman in the eye, not flinching.
After a second, she blinked and looked back at her screen.
“Call him and tell him I need to speak to him about Jordan Phelps and PZT.” He watched the woman’s expression to see if it would change at the mention of those two topics. It didn’t. She obviously didn’t have a clue to what he was referring. He might as well have told her he wanted to talk to Brent about gorillas and balloons for all she cared.
“I’m afraid I don’t have the authorization to contact Mr. Barrett personally,” the woman said.
“Then call his personal secretary. It’s important,” he added. He glanced at the metal detectors in front of the elevators. Good thing he’d left his gun in the limousine. Two security guards stood in front of the detectors, checking I.D.s. Maddox had no doubt he could take them both. If the nice way didn’t work, he’d have to do things the hard way. One way or another, he was getting in to speak to Brent Barrett. He forced a smile that felt more like a grimace. “Make the call,” he ordered.
The woman picked up the phone. “I have a Mr. Easton and …” she looked at Addie.
“Adelaide Spencer,” Addie supplied.
“Adelaide Spencer,” the receptionist repeated, “here to see Mr. Barrett.” She made a face. “Yes, that’s what I told them, that Mr. Barrett doesn’t see people without a prior appointment.” She shot them a vindicated look.
“Say it’s about Jordan Phelps and PZT,” Maddox prompted, leaning forward.
The woman gave him an exasperated look. “It’s something about Jordan Phelps and PZT,” she said, not bothering to hide her irritation over having to bother with them.
Maddox could tell from the woman’s surprised look that the conversation had shifted.
“Okay, I’ll send them right up.” The woman ended the call. A brief smile came over her lips as she reached in her desk and pulled out two visitor badges. “Show these to the guards. Take the elevator up to the twenty-seventh floor. Mr. Barrett’s secretary will be waiting for you.”
He offered a curt nod. “Thanks.”